


good to you.

by eoghainy



Category: The Young and the Restless
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 18:12:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14816331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eoghainy/pseuds/eoghainy
Summary: just drabbles from when the soap opera was rly good thnx





	good to you.

**Author's Note:**

> just drabbles from when the soap opera was rly good thnx

It had been months since he had found out what he had done.

As he slept, warm and sound in his bed beside his beautiful wife, nightmares plagued his dreams. Once more he sat at the wheel, fingers curled tightly around the leather material – so tightly that his knuckles were white – his lips pulling down further and further into a frown that gave away every thought that passed through his mind. He was enraged, yet he sat, brooding, in the driver’s seat and taking each turn a little _too_ fast, whipping his expensive car around the sharp corners with little regard for himself or others.

The part of him that knew he was dreaming was screaming to wake up, to get out of this nightmare, but the part of him that was guilty wanted him to sit through it and watch it again. And so he watched, helpless, as a shape darted in front of his car; a dark shape that resembled a dog. His brooding had been so deep that he hadn’t noticed it at first, but then his instincts to avoid an accident kicked in, and his foot was pushing the brake down all the way to the mat and he was yanking on the wheel so hard that the car spun out of his control.

Off the road he went, careening right into the bushes that lined the quiet road. He came to a complete stop, the car whining with the effort. He never noticed the impact, never felt the car rock with the force of hitting something solid. When he got out of the car to look for the dog he had avoided, he didn’t see the body, didn’t hear her little gasps of pain nor her last, dying words. He didn’t hear Delia Abbott’s agonizing last moments alive, and unknowingly, he left her there to die all by herself. 

The sense of foreboding that had clutched like steel claws at his chest never eased off that night, not until Chelsea told him, tearfully, that Delia had been hit by a car on her way home. That Billy stayed with her as she was rushed to the hospital, where she later then died as a result of her injuries. The nightmare only seemed to grow worse as he checked his car, seeing that his right headlight was broken, and that there was a scrap of fabric caught underneath his wheel: black fabric, like the material of Delia’s little evil witch costume. 

In a panic, he’d covered up the evidence. Burned the fabric, fixed the headlight, and gotten rid of anything else that was damning. Still, despite what he knew, he went to Delia’s funeral, tried to be there for his brother – in – law, and shared in the grief that his family went through, all the while _knowing_ that it was his fault. Adam Newman knew what happened to Delia Abbott, how she died, and still he feigned innocence around those that grieved for her, that would never _stop_ grieving for her.

But that was what had happened, in real time. In real life. This was the dream world, where his brain could play cruel tricks upon him and force him to suffer through different forms of torment until he forced himself to wake. His guilty subconscious wanted the guilt he felt for killing her to eat him alive, until he turned himself in and rotted in jail for the rest of his life, and so it attacked him in his dreams where he was his most vulnerable.

Things changed when he got out of the car, when he tentatively peered over the hood to see if he had actually hit anything. He heard the dog behind him, its nails clattering on the pavement, but he didn’t turn to look at it. Instead, he took another step forward around the car, his heart in his throat. He knew what awaited him.

Delia lay on the ground, her body bruised and broken. Blood trickled from her nose, and when she opened her mouth to pitifully call out for her father, her teeth were stained red. Her arms and hands shook as she tried to reach out for Adam once she spotted him. Delia was calling to him to pick her up, to carry her into his car and take her to the hospital, but Adam could not move. His feet were rooted deep into the ground, and his veins had turned to ice.

“Uncle . . . Adam . . .” she rasped, blood frothing upon her lips.

“I’m so sorry, Delia,” he whispered as he forced his lead – filled legs to move, to bend so he could crouch beside her and gently take her tiny battered hand. He had come racing into the brushes at such a fast and wild speed that he had destroyed her little body without a second thought. He could barely look at her without bile rising in the back of his throat. _He_ did this. “I never meant to leave you.”

Her fingers curled around his hand, her blunt nails digging into his skin. She was leaving marks in his firm skin, but he didn’t feel the pain she was inflicting upon him. “But you _did_ ,” the voice that came from her was strangled, and she was gripping his hand so hard that it actually began hurt. “You left me to _die_!” She shrieked, her voice breaking. Delia started to cough, hacking blood messily onto her dress. The red stains hardly showed amongst the black “You _left me to die in a ditch_!” Her voice seemed to echo Billy and Chloe’s, all three of them accusing him of her murder at once. “ _You have no mercy, you monster! I was seven years old!_ ” 

“I didn’t know I hit you,” he whispered weakly in a lame attempt to defend himself, but she drowned him out easily.

“Why were you driving like that, uncle Adam? Why weren’t you paying attention to the road?” Her voice had become such a piercing wail that Adam flinched away from her. “I would have forgiven you if you had hit Dash, why didn’t you just hit him? You would have saved my life if you did.” Her voice was animated, but her eyes were glossy and dead, unfeeling and empty. “I would be alive if you had just hit Dash.” 

Adam closed his eyes, fighting back tears of his own for the little life he had stolen. “I’m sorry, I know it won’t bring you back, but I’m sorry, Delia. I would take it back if I could. I’d hit Dash if I knew that it would save your life. I can say that I should have been paying more attention to the road as many times as you want but it _won’t bring you back_. What’s done is _done_ and I am so, so, _so_ sorry for that.”

Delia blinked. When she opened her eyes, her eyes were gone; gouged out of her head. Empty red sockets stared back at him. “Conner needed corneas.” She said softly, her voice scarcely louder than a whisper. “You sacrificed my life for his.” 

“ _No_.” 

“You _killed me_ to give your son the gift of sight.” 

“ _No_ , Delia.” 

“You chose your son over Chloe and Billy’s daughter. You _took_ me from them, from Victoria and Kevin as well.” Her voice grew louder with every word. “I was going to get married one day, I was going to have a family. Adam, you selfish son of a bitch, how could you _kill me_?” She sounded like Chelsea one moment, Victor the next, and then back to Delia. Billy screamed at him next. “ _I was someone’s baby girl!_ ”She echoed too many voices, too many voices that would haunt Adam to the end of his days.

Adam ripped his hand from hers, stumbling backwards as Delia rose to her feet, clumsily advancing upon him. “If you hadn’t been driving so fast, you wouldn’t have killed me. You would have just broken a leg, or one of my arms. I’d still be alive. You killed me on my big night, uncle Adam.” Her voice was so innocent, but it was tainted with hatred. “Don’t you know that this was my big night? That I had enjoyed myself, and all I wanted was _ice cream_? All I did was let Dash out to pee and run after him, and then you _hit_ me . . . I had my whole life ahead of me, and you _took that from me_. You took my life from me and now I will _never live again! I’m dead in the ground while your son sees, and while you still live!_ ”

“No, I didn’t know, Delia. I didn’t know that I hit you, I wouldn’t have left you if I had known, I _swear_. I looked for you, Delia, I _looked_ but I couldn’t find you! I didn’t know what I had done until after it was over, until it was too late, and then I couldn’t take any of it back, I couldn’t change what I did.” He was crying now, the tears streaking down his face. “I _didn’t know_.” 

Delia was unflinching when she spoke. “That’s not good enough. No apology will ever be good enough. You stole my life, and you will pay for it.”

And in an instant, Adam felt the terror and the pain that Delia had felt in her last conscious moments. An expensive looking SUV came bursting through the undergrowth, headlights blaring and brakes shrieking, and then there was a sickening _crunch_ as impact was made and as the car came to a full stop. He felt the blood clot in his throat as he lay in the darkness, choking, body convulsing. Agony was raw and fresh as he lay there, dying, alone and cold, with no one to provide him comfort or to ease him on his way. He tried screaming, tried to call for his mother and his father to come help him, but no one came. No one came to his rescue nor answered his calls. He tried to move his legs, but agony shot through him and he screamed, trembling as he accepted his fate. His vision began to fail, and his heart throbbed painfully in his chest as he let his eyes close, knowing that he was going to die alone and afraid.

Just like Delia did.

Adam woke suddenly then, jerking upwards, his entire body shaking uncontrollably as he came to his senses. His body was covered in cold sweats, and his entire being ached something fierce, but he could so clearly see the headlights coming at him and hear the crunch of metal against soft flesh and hard bone echoing in his ears. His breath rattled in his throat, and he tried to get himself under control before he woke Chelsea, but it was too late. 

His wife was already sitting up beside him, her hands gently touching his shoulder, expression one of hurt when he flinched away from her. He loved her, but he had not told her the truth; and he _would not_ burden her with this knowledge, not when she was so close to Chloe, not when Delia had been like a daughter to her. 

“Adam,” she whispered, her voice barely more than a whisper, “are you . . . are you okay?”

He didn’t answer, just rested his heavy head in his hands, fighting back the sob that wanted to force its way out of his throat. She knew something was going on with him, knew that there was something he was holding back, but she knew him well enough not to press and not to force the truth from him, because then he’d lash out at her and do something so fucking stupid that it would get the both of them in trouble. Then they’d fight, Conner would wake up and start crying, and they’d be at odds again. Adam didn’t want that. 

Something escaped him, some whisper of a cry, and then she was holding onto him and rubbing his back and comforting him. But her comfort didn’t do anything, for this was his pain to bear alone, from now until the time that he died. Or until someone found out, which someone always did. The truth never stayed hidden for long, especially in Genoa City. 

“Shh, Adam, it’s okay, shh,” she stroked her hand down his spine firmly, tousled her fingers through his bedhead, and pressed kisses to his damp cheeks and jaw. She held him until his crying faded away into breathless sobs, and held him for even longer after that, never asking him what he had dreamed of and never asking why he refused to confide in her. She understood the need for comfort without questions, and that’s what he appreciated most about his beautiful, loving, accepting wife. 

As the control came back to him, as awareness flooded back into his system, he pulled away from her. Their gaze met, his eyes swollen and bleary whilst hers were clear and alert. She realized what he needed and gently pulled him down onto the bed, guiding his arms to wrap around her. He put his head in the crook of her neck on his own accord, inhaling the soft, sweet smell of her skin. She grew still in his arms fairly quickly, her breathing even and steady, whilst Adam simply watched her. He stroked the tousled curls of her dark hair, traced light patterns against her skin, admired every visible part of her that he could. He didn’t have much time left with her, he felt that in the depths of his soul.

The truth _was_ going to come out, but for now, he had to soak up every last moment he had left with Chelsea and Conner before he sat in a jail cell for the rest of his life for something he should have worked harder to prevent.


End file.
